Obviously he was hiding it from Federal confiscation. Did you look inside the ductwork? There are probably more guns hidden there, along with lots and lots and lots of ammunition. A spacious place to hide ammunition is the furnace's heat exchanger, until the heat is turned on. Also look above any suspended ceilings. Is there an old bomb shelter? How about between the wall studs -- did you look there? Some folks, knowing that Obama is going to personally come to confiscate their firearms and short arms, have taken to burying them (inside an appropriate container) in the backyard and then having cows pee all over the place (the iron in the urine foils metal detectors, or so I'm told).

The best way to get the yard dug up is to anonymously contact the FBI and tell them that commies have buried guns there for The Revolution. Of course, if they DO find any guns they'll keep them, but you could sue to get them back.

And poor Mom, sitting there, a mere thirteen hours from making us play Hide 'n' Seek. Alack and Alas! Am I the sole one that cares? Am I to shoulder the Burden alone? Ah, but easy is the yoke and the mouths of the kine that tread the grain shall not be bound for should Mom fall into a pit who but I would be there to rescue her?

AND... David Letterman is retiring after Wednesday's show. Who am I supposed to watch? Fallon plays Beer Pong with interesting guests so I can't watch him and even when he interviews them, half or more of the interview is about him. James Cordon acts like a silly English twi/at so much that I don't even record him NO MATTER who his guests are. Seth Myers guests who are of interest are few and far between and I have to listen to inane banter with some jackoff in the band who IS NOT A COMEDIAN. Do I really have to look to see who is on Conehead O'Brien because he is even worse with the "Mommy! Look at me!" shit? The guy that took over Colbert's show and turned it into a shouting match? devoid of any true journalism?... NAY! I shall not!

Ahhhh.... RFN too soon? Fing bloody hell fer sure! Wishing you all the luck in the world on getting this stripped and zipped, Rap. Not knowing all the details, it sounds, hopefully, that there is a quick fix on this. Whatever... I just hope the updates are as timely as you can manage to post them. Bless.

Good morning, Mom. Here's a dish made from saprophytic fungi cooked with the unfertilized ova of a chicken, some rounds of seasoned pig meat scraps which have been caramelized, and some chopped up tubers -- all sprinkled with sodium chloride and the ground seeds of Piper nigrum.

And an aqueous infusion of the roasted and ground seeds of the Cofea plant!!

Granted, this thing could ulcerate, expose my lower mandible and teeth, become infected and have pus drain out with the accompanying gangrenous stink and then metastasize into my bones, but it's actually the most frequent skin cancer in the US. Being of fair skin and baby blue eyes I'm more at risk than someone with dark hair and brown eyes. It is, also, the least threatening sort of skin cancer and rarely metastasizes and beside, it wouldn't DARE! The surgery will be a Moh's procedure (Larry and Curly assisting, I guess) which has a >90% cure rate. Yes, it can recur in <10% of the cases and each time is a new case, rarely a recurrence. I fully intend to enjoy my time Ireland.

It would be kinda cool to have the surgery leave a scar because then I could tell everyone about my undergraduate days in Heidelburg and how I fought a saber (mensur) duel for the honor of a fair damsel beset by drunken louts who wouldst have their way with her.

IF my wayward son--now in SFO on a new job offer mission--does not use the spot, I will be able to garner 60 points in one fell swoop by playing "DORKS" across a triple-word AND a triple-letter spot under the "K". Thus are small triumphs built. He has been wiping the floor with me at Scrabble for too long now!!

How terrible for you! To be so deficient in common vocabulary that your own son uses you for a floor rag and you cannot find the words to complain or remonstrate with him must be a matter of constant annoyance to you.

Or to put it another way,

You feel bad! You not have words to tell son you not a rag so you be mad.

Looks like more rain. Another week at least. Have I mentioned in the last month how very very very wet my yard and garden are? Too much rain is as bad as too little. MOM has only three ripe tomatoes off of all of those plants.

It's about community, Amos. And family. Out here in The Real West we set a great store on community and family. Perhaps sometime in the past you may have heard, in passing, the statement, "It takes a village to raise a child." Out here in the Wide Open Spaces, where there's land, lots of land, people don't like to be fenced in. But everyone knows while everything up to date in, say, Kansas city, still, out here chickens and ducks and geese scurry when one of them gas buggies drives by. But just like in Rumson, we work together out here. Sure, we have our "incidents" and we ask ourselves, "What's Going On Here?" but even then we work together to find out. Even our eccentrics -- like that fella who talks to the trees -- fall to and help out when the chips are down. I know this is hard to understand by a Republican from Sandy Ego, but that's what us simple folk do.

Rapparree trying to characterize me as Republican is about as funny as me trying to characterize him as a wizened and gnarled flatulent masturbator. He knows I'm not a Republican, and I know he is neither wizened nor gnarled.

Long weekend ahead, and a very long list of things to do. The weather appears to be following the same soggy trajectory so I suspect that MOM will be complaining about everyone being underfoot. Break out the board games.

Well, I shall be spending the day burning trash/brush piles. I cleared small trees and bushes from a few areas back in January and haven't had a chance to spend an entire day watching them burn until now. We're currently having an unseasonably cool spell, so I reckon I should get 'er done before the 100°F days arrive. I shall endeavor to spend the blaze-monitoring hours thinking up stupid witty things to share with Mom and her kids.

JHC! George is mowing his lawn again. He mowed it last night. He mowed it Thursday afternoon. He does not have a putting green. George is truly losing it. If he thinks I am gonna take the hint and mow down my pretty yellow flowers, he's barking up the wrong tree. I wish I could train my honey bees to attack anyone spreading herbicides on my property... George over-sprays onto a third of my front lawn and all of my lawn between our houses. Not one pretty dandelion on a third of my front lawn! Oh the horror!

Someday he'll open the door to a knock and find himself face-to-face with a giant bee. He'll fall back in shock, and the bee will say, "Hello. Thanks for the mutation-causing sprays! Say hello to my little stinger."

No sort of booze goes well with banana cream pie. The best intoxicating beverage to drink along with banana cream pie is magic mushroom tea. It doesn't make the pie taste better or worse, but it makes it fun to watch the pie wiggle and jiggle when you tap the plate it's sitting on with a spoon. Works even better with Jello. In fact, it's the only thing Jello's any good for. There are entire cults who do nothing but dose up on psychedelics and watch Jello wiggle and jiggle.

Tuesday I go to SLC and overnight there. Wednesday morning I fly to Chicago. Thursday I spent in Valparaiso, Indiana. Friday I fly to Dublin. June 6, 7, and 8 I'll be in Dingle. June 13 I'll start a week in a cottage in West Cork -- Ahakista, to be precise. Nice little place, thatched roof, leprechauns frolicking in the garden, sleeps eight, three baths -- just a typical Irish cottage. June 21 I'll fly back to Chicago. June 23 I'll be back in Pocatello.

I do not have pythons. The pythons are in south Florida. I live in northwest Florida. To get to the pythons, I would have to drive at least ten hours. The swamps in my part of Florida only have the usual compliment of indigenous deadly animals such as cottonmouths, alligators, rattlesnakes, coral snakes, bears, panthers*, wild hogs**, and mosquitos.

* The edjicated folks at the Florida Wildlife Commission will tell you that there are no panthers/pumas/cougars in this part of Florida, but I've seen one myself and heard several firsthand accounts of sightings. I think the panthers just have an aversion to game wardens.

** No, wild hogs aren't truly indigenous. They're descendants of Spanish colonial era livestock escapees. But if you've been part of the landscape for over 400 years....

Go a bit further west, to the Choctaw area of Mississippi, and they call the panthers "painters." At least, that's what the Choctaw word sounds like, according to a Chocktaw friend.

To no surprise, it rained again today. I was planning to paint, but after a soggy trip to Home Depot I put it off for a while. After the air conditioner has time to dry out the house a bit I'll get started. I found a bunch of painting supplies in the garage, many of them encrusted with mud dauber nests. Of course I didn't buy the one thing I needed because I thought it was out there, but I've reached my quota of Home Depot trips for a three day weekend.

According to the Clancy Brothers, Rapparree is going to go to Dublin to join the IRA. However, I think he is in for a disappointment. These days they are mostly doing hedged investments and vote campaigns.

It's ON HIS IRA, not TO JOIN THE IRA. An individual retirement account is somewhat different from the Irish Republican Army. I've been in the army and unlike Amos, I'm not a Republican. I'm also not Irish.